Wrong But It's Right
by Kylara Kitsune
Summary: With the help of Charlie Weasley, Hermione Granger discovers a side to herself that she never knew existed.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I'm working through a list of 90 prompts with this, including several in each chapter. I found the prompt list on LiveJournal, but I'm not putting it on my profile because it's not exactly child-friendly. If you want the list, PM me and I'll send it to you.**

It was wrong, that something like this could make her feel this way. She'd always been such a good girl, hard-working and serious, never getting involved in the frivolity that surrounded her in the dormitory she'd shared with her classmates, back at school. If it hadn't been for Ron and Harry, and their collective inability to get through a school year without adventure and danger, she'd probably have forever been remembered as the boring know-it-all who always had her head in a book. As it was, she'd become known as a heroine, without intending or wanting to be.

Incapable of lustful emotions, she'd once thought herself, sexless and doomed to be the eternal spinster, living alone apart from a cat. Then she'd met Charlie Weasley, or, to be more precise, they'd run into each other for the first time in years, got talking over a drink or five in the Leaky Cauldron, and wound up in bed together. She vaguely remembered them kissing in the bar, then she'd downed another drink for courage and accepted his offer. Actually, how had they got to that point... Ah yes, that was it. She'd complained that she'd never had sex, never felt the urge to, and wondered what she was missing. He'd offered to show her exactly what she was missing, and she'd been drunk enough and lonely enough to say yes. After that, her memory blurred too much to be at all sure of what had taken place.

She'd woken up the next morning to a terrible hangover and aches in unusual places. Then she'd rolled over to see an unruly mop of red hair and a freckled arm over the top of the covers. There was a moment's panic, in which she thought she'd ended up in bed with Ron, before she realised it was his older brother. Relief gave way to embarrassment as he opened his eyes, smiling at her.

"Good morning, Hermione."

"Did we... I mean... I know we did... but..."

"Hermione Granger, speechless? There's something I thought I'd never see." He stretched out with one arm, taking her hand in his. "You don't remember, do you?"

Too embarrassed to speak, or even look at him, she shook her head, her eyes tightly closed.

His fingers brushed her hair back, tucking the wild curls behind her ear. "I didn't take advantage of you, Hermione. I wouldn't do that. You do know that, don't you?" He sounded worried now, probably expecting her infamous temper to kick in, causing her to lash out at him.

"I know I said yes, Charlie. I just don't remember what happened next." It took a lot of effort, but she forced her eyes open, and found him watching her closely.

"Do you regret it?"

"That I said yes? No, I don't regret it. What I regret is having had so much to drink that I lost my memory of it all."

He smiled, a wickedly tempting grin. "Well then, I can definitely do something about that."

As he kissed her, it was as though her headache receded, the throbbing in her temples was definitely less severe. For a moment, she worried that she hadn't brushed her teeth yet, but he didn't seem to care as his tongue gently teased her lips open. He was unbelievably gentle with her, as though it was her first time all over again that morning. His fingers teased and stroked her almost to the point of climax, his lips kissing her neck, her collarbone, her breasts.

"Please..." She didn't know what she was asking for, didn't care. She'd never known she could feel this way before, had never realised she was missing out on something so amazing.

"Please what, Hermione?" She couldn't get the words out, even though she wanted to speak to him. "Do you want me to fuck you?" The words sent a shiver down her spine - it was language she'd have complained about, normally, but here, now, with him, it was doing strange things to her. She wanted him, she realised, wanted him to talk to her like that. Breathless, she nodded, clutching tightly at his arms, her fingers digging into old scars on his skin.

He'd entered her slowly, so carefully that it hadn't hurt at all. Maybe it had last night, but somehow she didn't think so. Not if this was anything to go by.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That had been six months ago, and as time had gone on, she'd only wanted him more. Wasn't desire supposed to diminish with time, she'd read somewhere? Regardless, it hadn't. He was more experienced than she was, that went without saying, but she'd been an enthusiastic student, prepared to try anything at least once.

**AN: Yes, I know I've stopped at a bit of a cliffhanger, but I definitely have plans for this story, and for this couple.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: "Wrong but it's right" part 2.**

The hot water pounded her skin as Hermione stood under the shower, her skin flushed from both the heat and what a certain redhead was doing. Kneeling in front of her, Charlie Weasley's head was buried between her thighs, his tongue teasing parts of her that no other man had ever touched, let alone licked, kissed, sucked... done whatever it was he was doing that felt so good.

She hadn't wanted to let him do this - being too self-conscious and considering that part of herself as "dirty". He'd managed to get his own way, as usual, by simply waiting until her lust and hormones had taken over.

They'd spent the night in her flat, on a secluded street not far from Diagon Alley. A night of passion, there was no other way to describe it.

"I'm going to make you scream my name, Hermione Granger. I'm going to give you a night you'll never forget."

He'd been as good as his word. Losing count after the third or fourth climax, she'd called out his name, fingers clutching the sheets on her bed as he thrust into her from behind, both of them breathing heavily, gasping unintelligible sounds. For a few minutes, they lay together on the bed in a tangle of limbs, bodies entwined, unwilling and unable to move apart. Her head rested on his chest, fingertips lightly exploring his collection of scars. She had more than a few of her own, but his had been caused by dragons, and were therefore much more interesting, or so she thought.

"Ugh, I need a shower." Shifting slightly in his arms, Hermione noticed the sticky, sweaty state of her skin for the first time.

"So do I, now you mention it. Come on, then." Standing up, he scooped her up into his arms, not straining in the slightest, and carried her into the adjoining bathroom.

"But Charlie, we can't..."

"Can't what? No such word, Hermione." She sat on the edge of the bath as he fiddled with the shower's controls, increasing the water temperature. Her hands instinctively crept up to cover her breasts, embarrassment and self-consciousness taking over in the bright lights of the bathroom. In the bedroom, with much dimmer lighting, it hadn't been a problem. Turning back to her, Charlie shook his head.

"Don't hide, love, I've seen it all before." Taking her hands in his own, he pulled her to her feet, guiding her into the shower. Gentle hands washed her hair, and she felt herself relax under his touch. She didn't stop him when his hands drifted down her back, pulling her close. She didn't protest when he kissed her, his tongue parting her lips and sliding against her own. A sigh escaped her mouth when his fingers stroked between her legs, and she leaned against the wall, sure she was going to lose her balance if he kept this up. At the first touch of his lips to her most intimate area, her eyes opened wide and a low, husky moan was heard. It took a few moments until she realised she was the one who had made the noise.

"Charlie... don't... it's not..."

"Hermione, do you trust me?" She nodded, unable to speak, barely able to meet his eyes once she'd seen him kneeling in front of her, causing tingles to run up her spine. "Then just relax and enjoy it. There's nothing wrong about this, or anything else we've done."

To begin with, she closed her eyes and tried to allow herself to simply _feel_, rather than analysing everything, as was her habit. Before long, though, she couldn't help watching him, unable to ignore how the sight of him had made her feel. Her hands caressed his hair, wrapping strands of it around her fingers. His hands were on her hips, firm but not forceful, holding her up as her legs began to shake.

"Charlie... oh.." He was relentless, driving her over the edge again and again. Just as she thought she couldn't take any more, he slowed, stopped, allowed her to sink to the ground. She couldn't have stayed standing if she'd tried - she felt as though all her bones had melted into a puddle. Turning off the water, he held her in his arms, smiling.

"Wasn't so bad after all, was it?" She shook her head, not sure she was capable of speaking coherently yet. As far as she was concerned, anything feeling that good couldn't possibly be wrong. Charlie Weasley could do anything he liked to her - she wasn't going to stop him, not after that.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm definitely not done with "Wrong but it's right." I don't have a schedule for when I update fics, I write as the inspiration hits. So it could take a while between updates. Fear not, though - unless I say it's finished, there will be more.**

The room was warm, that was all Hermione could tell about it. She wasn't sure, even, which room she and Charlie were in, let alone what the place looked like. When she'd arrived at his house that evening, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. They'd had dinner, a lovely meal that he claimed to have cooked all by himself, and then he'd asked if she trusted him. A silly question, really. Of course she trusted him.

"Are you sure about that, Hermione?"

"Yes, Charlie, I'm sure." She'd allowed him to blindfold her, and a strip of dark red silk now covered her eyes. She couldn't see even so much as a glimpse - he'd tied it expertly. He stood behind her, his fingers slowly unfastening the buttons on her shirt and caressing her skin as it was revealed. She'd bought, especially for tonight, a matching black lace bra and knickers - never having worn black lingerie before, she was curious to see what he'd think of it. His lips pressed against her neck, his tongue flicked against her heated skin, making her gasp.

"I haven't even started, Hermione." A soft whisper in her ear as his hands cupped her breasts, sliding under the lace of her bra. It was true. He'd been planning this for too long to rush now - he was going to take it slowly, tease her, touch her, kiss her, make her think she couldn't take any more pleasure, and then... and then he was going to make love to her, not the fast, hard fucking they'd both become accustomed to, but like it had been that first time.

Slowly, so slowly, her clothes were removed piece by piece. Every time she tried to help him, he caught hold of her wrists and stopped her. "Let me, Hermione." For once, she made no attempt to cover herself, but simply stood there and allowed him to look. Something had removed her inhibitions about her body, stopped her being so self-conscious. It must have been the blindfold - she couldn't see the way he was looking at her, couldn't see those eyes filled with lust and longing, couldn't see the expressions on his face.

She cried out as his fingers gently stroked between her legs, clutching at his arms as she started to shake. Carefully, he laid her down on the bed and continued, his tongue teasing her clit as his fingers pushed in and out of her.

"Charlie, please."

"Please what?"

She couldn't answer, the words swallowed by a strangled cry as she came. Charlie held her in his arms, waited for the quivering to subside, then used one hand to deftly unfasten the silk blindfold. Her eyes, wide and dark, looked directly into his, and for the first time, the brown pools held no hint of shyness, no self-consciousness. It had worked, then, his idea. She smiled up at him, a wickedly tempting expression.

"Charlie Weasley, you are wearing far too many clothes."

"Well, Hermione, what are you intending to do about that?"

"This is what I'm going to do." Her impatience was infectious, and Charlie found himself unable to resist the woman in his arms. Whatever she wanted, she could have. She almost ripped his shirt off, buttons flying across the room, and his trousers soon followed. He'd suspected she'd be wild, but first she'd had to lose the inhibitions. Well, it looked as though she had.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I wanted to write this yesterday, but just couldn't get into the right mindset for writing smut. Oh well, it happens sometimes. **

The kitchen table really wasn't the place to be doing this. They'd had a dinner party only a few hours ago, for Merlin's sake; their family and friends had all been sitting around this very piece of furniture, eating a meal. And now she was lying across the sturdy scrubbed-oak table, while Charlie licked chocolate and cream from her skin. The remnants of dessert, a home-made chocolate mousse that had been entirely too good to waste, but was now being put to a new and inventive use.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She'd picked up the glass bowl, planning to put the pudding aside for later, when she'd seen the wicked gleam in Charlie's eyes. "Bring that over here, Hermione," he'd beckoned, and she hadn't thought twice about it, passing the bowl over. He'd dragged one finger through the mousse, then smirked and swiped it across her nose.

"Hey, what was that for?" Reaching for a towel to clean it off, he'd stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

"Take your dress off for me, Hermione. Please."

"Here? Now?"

"Here and now, Hermione." She never had been able to refuse him anything, especially when he looked at her like that, his eyes dark and wide. "Strip for me."

Slowly, so slowly, she opened the zip that ran down the back of her dress, then slid the shoulder straps down over her arms and allowed the thin material to fall to the floor, where she stepped out of it. Standing in front of him, in the blue satin lingerie he'd bought for her last week, he almost lost control, almost pushed her up against the counter to take her then and there. But he managed to hold back, to keep to his plan. Walking over to her, as she stood by the table, he set the bowl down and kissed her, running his hands up her back and unfastening her bra at the same time.

The next thing Hermione noticed was the creamy chocolate being smeared carefully, almost artistically, over her skin. "Charlie..."

His only response was to lift her up so that she was sitting on the table itself, and lower his head to lick the chocolate from her skin.

Gradually, he worked his way down her body, lying her down across the table and raising her hips so that he could remove the last item of her clothing. She felt his gentle fingers between her legs, soon followed by the heat of his mouth. Even his breath on her most sensitive parts could make her tremble, and this was far more intense. He glanced up her body, meeting her eyes for a moment, before smiling and continuing, increasing the pressure, the speed... Her eyes closed and one hand reached down to tangle in his hair, hair that he'd been growing since realising how much it turned him on when she clutched at it like this. Combined with the scent of her, cinnamon, honey and something uniquely Hermione, her moans and the breathless way she gasped his name was almost enough to make him come, even without being touched.

As the trembling subsided, Hermione opened her eyes, and smiled at him. "Is there any of that stuff left, or did you use it all?"

"Hermione..."

"Two can play at that game, Charlie Weasley. Strip for me..."


End file.
